Page 29 of The Wulver's Bond
‘You ever seen fairies shag? Now they—unh—they’re really—ah!—brutal. More teeth than you can fill a—oh fuck!—a nutsack with…’
How— are you— still— talking—?
Arran’s claws dug deep into the soil, toes and fingers curled with the strain. He barely registered the giddy expression on Weed’s face, the way his body arched and his mouth opened in a silent ‘O’ right before his cock shot streaks of cum over Arran’s chest.
Owned.
The beast in Arran roared, furious at having been marked, and the fury itself sent him over the edge.
Arran’s body thrashed as the orgasm overcame it. His teeth bared, gnashing at the gag, while his insides churned with the molten pleasure pulsing from his core. Weed bounced helplessly on Arran’s convulsing cock, gasping with each hot spurt of cum that fired inside him.
The release was so good it was nearly painful. It was followed by another kind of pressure, building low in the base of Arran’s cock.
Arran growled a warning, tossing his head from side to side.Off! Off!He twisted his pelvis, trying to buck Weed off him.
‘Hang on! I get it, I get it!’ Weed disentangled himself and landed inelegantly on the ground next to Arran. He rubbed his side where he’d hit a stone. ‘What’s the rush, wolfie? You gone all tender down there?’
Weed’s jeer turned into a gawp as he looked at Arran’s cock again. Blood rushed into the veins criss-crossing its base, swelling out into a bulbous shape twice as thick as the rest of it. ‘What isthat?’
Weed’s attention on it kept Arran’s blood running hot, even though the rest of him was beginning to cool off. He shook his head as Weed reached out to touch it.
Weed pouted, but withdrew his hand. ‘It’s fuckinghuge,wolfie. I wanna squeeze it.’
A snarly chuckle rumbled out of Arran’s mouth. The overload of dopamine left him feeling heady. The fury and the desperation ebbed away.
The muzzle loosened and Weed asked, ‘Should I let you go now?’
Arran checked in with his body. It had got what it needed. His muscles were able to relax. His claws and teeth unclenched.
‘It is safe,’ he said.
The many creepers slithered off him, leaving him feeling lighter for both the sexual and physical release. He pushed himself up on his elbows and saw Weed still gazing at his swollen cock with something amounting to awe.
‘It is my knot,’ Arran explained. ‘For procreating. It would keep me locked inside my breeding partner, for the best possible chances of propagation.’
Weed stared at him, then barked a laugh. ‘You’re definitely yourself again, then. Do you hear yourself talk?’
Arran tilted his head, trying to judge Weed’s reaction. ‘It is what it is. There’s no need to mock me.’
‘It’s your breeding butt plug, is what it is.’ Weed exploded into a fit of laughter and fell back onto the soil. There were tears in his eyes and his body trembled.
Perhaps Weed didn’t realise it, but his arms pulled up to hug himself, clutching at his coat as tightly as he’d clutched Arran’s fur.
Arran’s ears ticked toward him, searching for cues. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m great!’ Weed exclaimed, but it was followed by a gush of tears. He tried to blink them back. ‘Dunno why I’m crying. Guess it was just so fucking funny!’
Arran moved next to him and placed a hand on his arm. Weed sucked in a sharp breath.
‘Are you in pain?’ Arran asked.
The mirth fled Weed’s expression. ‘Often am. S’not new.’
His scent was hard to decipher, being a fresh mix of cum and excitement, but there was something else that was off about it. Arran drew in a stealthy inhale. Something a bit like shock. A tinge of dread. It reminded him of Weed’s panic attack earlier that day.
Arran felt shame rising in his gut. He craved amnesty from it for a little longer. He should concern himself with Weed’s wellbeing before he turned his gaze inward.
‘Would you like me to hold you?’ he asked.
